


An Leabhar Dìlseachd

by thetranquilteal (dragonBug27)



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Book 2: Dragonfly in Amber, Book 3: Voyager, F/M, Faith Lives AU, It's a bit of a mix, Pregnancy, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 03, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:24:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonBug27/pseuds/thetranquilteal
Summary: Claire Fraser had always known she was a witch. Her affinity for healing hinted at it and her ability to time travel confirmed it. What she didn’t know was that she would come into her full power the day she became a mother. Concerned with how her pregnancy is progressing, she's seeks the help of apothecary Master Raymond in the hope that he will be able to teach her how to utilise her newfound power and protect her family from disaster. A canon-divergent AU told through the pages of the Fraser Grimoire ‘The Book of Faith’.





	1. Inscription

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just_a_kid_at_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_kid_at_heart/gifts).



> Happy New Year @just-a-kid-at-heart - this one is for you! Thank you so much to @moghraidhjamie for organising this year’s Secret Santa Fic Exchange on tumblr and ultimately encouraging me to write more.

_To my darling daughter,_  

 _Giving birth to you was the most incredible gift I have ever received and seeing you grow into the woman you are today has been an absolute joy - one that words cannot describe. Now, I pass_ An Leabhar Dìlseachd _on to you. Not only to aid you in your journey but so that you may fill its blank pages with lessons of your own. Just know that my love for you is infinite and I will always be proud of you._

_Your mother,_

_Claire_

 

* * *

 

Claire sat and watched as Faith read the inscription she had added to the book the night before.

Sitting at the desk in Jamie's study she had stared into the peat fire for close to an hour trying find the right words. How could one possibly articulate the significance of the past 18 years in just a few sentences? It wasn't until Jamie had come to check on her and encourage her to come to bed that she had stopped overthinking and simply written down what was in her heart.

“What was it like?” Faith looked up, one hand still resting on the paper not yet ready to let the words go. “Becoming a mother, I mean.”

Claire leaned back in her armchair and looked about the living room as she considered her answer. Lallybroch held so many memories. Both bitter and improbable yet no less wondrous. Her eyes settled on the portrait of her holding Faith in her arms hanging on the east wall.

“It’s... extraordinary. It's something that no one can possibly prepare you for, not truly,” Claire smiled as she remembered the weight of Faith asleep in her arms, so heavy she was sure her arms might suddenly stop working there and then. Yet under no circumstances was she going to put her down in the cot or hand her over to someone else to hold. Not even for a short while. “As I'm sure any woman could attest, you receive a lot of advice on what life is like with a newborn. But… no-one can ever prepare you for the connection that builds between you and the baby growing inside of you. Sometimes before you even know it's there.”

“When did ye realise ye were pregnant with me?”

“Your father and I were at the Abbey of Ste. Anne de Beaupré. I - _we_ weren't expecting it. I mean, we had been married for many a month at that point but I was under the impression that I couldn't bear children. That such a thing was impossible.”

“You must have been surprised.”

“Your father _certainly_ was when I told him,” Claire said with a chuckle. “I didn’t tell him straight away, though - not until I was sure. The nausea and the tiredness could easily have been caused by all the stress I was under at the time. The first thing that really hinted at it was the vivid dreams. It was a long time ago now, but I remember them featuring your father. Not so much his body but his soul. Always out of reach, a blue wall separating me from him. Over time, as my pregnancy progressed, my dreams changed and... so did I. By the time you were born the power that I dreamed of was a reality, something that I literally held in my hands.”

“Was it the same when ye had Bree? Did ye discover ye had even more power, then?”

“No. The first time was certainly the most profound - or so I found. Before you were conceived I was very much limited in my abilities but by the time you were born I was... a completely different person in terms of magic. With Brianna, however, I was very much the same before and after. But when your sister was born things were different, perhaps that's why I don't recall. We had lost at Culloden. Your father was living as an outlaw, unable to be with us. I was putting all of my energy into protecting not just the four of us but everyone here at Lallybroch. That’s not to say she didn't have an impact at all, I know she did. While you gave me power, Brianna gave me strength. I don't believe I would have been as successful if not for having the both of you.”

Claire reached her hand across to her daughter in offering and Faith met her half way with a smile that confirmed she was being just as maudlin as she suspected.

“Will ye tell me, Mam? The stories?”

“Surely you're tired of listening to an old woman's tale by now?” Claire released Faith's hand and reached up to brush her now white curls away from her face. A cause just as doomed as when they had been light brown in colour.

“Dinna let Da hear ye speak like that,” Faith tilted her head in jest. “Ye ken how he gets. All defensive and insistent that - not only you but the rest of us too - show ye the ‘respect ye deserve’.”

“He does go a bit overboard sometimes, doesn't he?” Claire chuckled.

“Just a bit? Mam. Please. Do ye no’ recall the time he forced all of us kids to sit down and listen to him talk about ye for so many hours, Young Ian fell asleep on the floor?”

“All because someone knocked over and broke the cauldron that I had brewing in my greenhouse? And the culprit ended up being-”

“That stray dog Fergus had been feeding scraps to!” They both said in unison and laughed at the shared memory.

“Oh, go on,” Claire waved her hand at the book still sitting in Faith's lap and glanced out the window to check the location of the sun. “We've enough time before anyone comes looking for us.”

Faith turned the page with unrestrained glee and began to read aloud.

 


	2. To Guard Against Miscarriage

_Red Raspberry Leaves_  
_Vitex_ _Agnus-Castus Berry Powder_  
_False Unicorn Root (alt: Wild Yam Root)_  
_Amethyst (alt:_ _Moonstone, Malachite, Rose Quartz, Agate or Ruby)_  
_Length of Rope (pref: Green)_  
_Baby Blanket_  
_Physical Item of Love_

_Sécurisé dans mon ventre, une graine d'amour. Là pour grandir et s'épanouir jusqu'à sa libération par la nature dans [nombre de] mois. Entouré de sécurité, de santé et de complétude vous resterez jusqu'à ce que ce nœud soit défait._

 

* * *

 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Claire whispered to herself. “It’s too early.”

The red stain on her undergarment had her heart racing. She was a trained medical professional and she  _ knew  _ that she needed to stay calm. But, by God, she couldn’t control it. And she was starting to panic.

“It’s too early.” This time she said it louder, stronger. She placed her palms on her swollen belly and took slow, deep deliberate breaths in an attempt to lower her heart rate. “It’s too early.”

Spotting during pregnancy wasn’t unusual and a sensitive cervix could easily be to blame. Perhaps. 

Despite resuming their sex life after Jamie’s ordeal at Wentworth and their subsequent time spent at _Abbey of Ste. Anne de Beaupré_ , intercourse remained infrequent and was unlikely the cause.  _ What then?  _ She started running through other alternatives, everything she had ever read, everything she had ever learned or overheard someone else explain to a patient but soon stopped herself. The darker her thoughts the faster she noticed her heart beating in her chest. 

She pulled off her undergarment and went to the chest of drawers in search of a replacement. Usually she had help dressing and undressing - something she came to appreciate more and more as her stomach continued to swell - but this she was determined to deal with on her own. There was no need worry anyone, not yet.

Finally redressed, this time with a clean rag nestled between her legs, she slipped on her shoes and made her way down to the dining room. As usual, there was a pot of tea and buttered toast waiting for her on the table. 

She contemplated her options as she ate and only grew increasingly frustrated. For longer than she even had even known for certain that she was pregnant she had been having a number of increasingly clear dreams, all featuring the colour blue. Just two nights previously she had dreamed of the soft soul of an unborn infant, her own she had assumed, that was starting to crack. She had traced the line with long feather and sealed it in blue. But what was the point in dreaming of powers that she herself had never possessed? She had too many questions and little way of finding answers. What she really needed was some help.

“Suzette,” Claire called as she placed her empty cup down on its matching saucer. 

“ _ Oui, madame _ ?”

“Please organise for the carriage to be ready. I must go to the  _ Rue de Varennes _ as soon as possible. And if you can find Fergus, send him up to see me, please.”

“ _ Oui, madame _ ,” Suzette curtseyed and left the room quickly.

Despite the length of time she and Jamie had spent at Jared Fraser's home on  _ Rue Tremoulins _ here in Paris, Claire didn't think she would ever get used to people being at her beck and call. Yet, today she was especially thankful for it. Rushing around and organising things was the last thing she ought to be doing yet they needed to be done. Without people like Suzette, Magnus and Fergus in her life… she couldn’t bear to entertain the thought and was grateful that Fergus chose that moment to come through the doorway and into the dining room.

Claire stood and walked to meet him halfway.

“Fergus,” she placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, finding strength in his stature. “Go to  _ L'Hôpital des Anges  _ and tell Mother Hildegarde that I will not be in attendance today.”

“ _ Oui, Milady _ ,” Fergus stood tall and nodded his head, looking much older than his 9 years of age. “I will go at once.”

Normally his youthful eagerness to complete any task asked of him would make her smile fondly but even he couldn't bring any joy out of her when she had more pressing things on her mind. She followed him out the door and at such a slower pace he had completely disappeared from view by the time she was walking up to the carriage waiting for her.

The ride to  _ Rue de Varennes _ was thankfully unimpeded by other traffic and before long she was making her way inside  _ Maitre Raymond’s _ store. Delphine looked up at her from behind the counter and abandoned her work to call to someone out the back.

“Ah, Madonna,” Master Raymond walked out to meet her and take her hand. “I was wondering when you might grace us with your presence here once again. Tell me, how may I assist you?”

“I don’t really know,” Claire admitted and looked around the store to make sure that she, Master Raymond and Delphine were the only ones there. “But I can say that it is of a…  _ délicat _ matter.”

“I see,” Master Raymond nodded and let go of her hand with a pat. “Follow me.”

Entering the shop’s secret room for the second time was no less fascinating than the first. There were items on shelves and table tops that were either new or she had simply missed earlier, overwhelmed by the amount and variety of stock kept hidden from prying eyes. 

Drawn to statue of the Titan goddess, Leto, Claire moved to the shelf and picked it up to admire it from all angles.

“Something is on your mind.”

Claire smiled, unsurprised by Master Raymond's intuition, and put the statue back down in its original place. “Yes. I have an ailment and I believe my skills as a healer are not adequate for address the problem.”

“Tell me, have you noticed anything else?”

“Anything else?”

“ _ Oiu _ . Perhaps you have noticed an aversion to a particular food or drink… or there has been a sudden change to your physical status?”

“Well, you might think it foolish of me… but I have been having dreams of late.”

“That does not surprise me, Madonna. Many women who are with child do. The details are of little concern but what themes have you noticed time and time again?”

“The colour blue,” Claire shared without hesitation. “Souls, I think. And me... healing them.”

Master Raymond considered her for a moment and then moved a step closer. “Here, let me see your hands.”

Claire held them out and allowed Master Raymond to study them. She watched with one eyebrow raised as he closed his eyes for moment and nodded.

“It is  _ fausse couche _ that you fear?”

“ _ Oui _ ,” she confirmed.

“Mmm...” he let go and set about collecting a number of items off shelves and out of bowls.

Claire took a seat on a nearby stool to watch while she waited.

“Are you familiar with the casting of spells?” Master Raymond asked as he climbed a small step ladder to reach something.

“No. I've seen it done by others,” she admitted, thinking primarily of Geillis Duncan, “but I have never intentionally cast a spell.”

“It’s simple, really. There are five things you must do. Cast a circle, state your purpose, perform the chosen action, give thanks and, when all of that is done, reopen the circle,” Master Raymond noticed the look of trepidation on her face as he moved back down to solid ground and smiled softly at her. “All you must remember is that intent is the most significant ingredient and love the most powerful of all. One day, with enough practice, you will be able to do this on your own just by simply feeling it. There will be no need for stones, potions or anything of the like. But for now... you will need a little help, Madonna.”

Master Raymond handed her the basket and Claire glanced inside. Small jars of herbs and powders were accompanied by a collection of stones and a length of green rope.

“Rope?”

“ _Oui_ , Madonna. You must knot the rope to stall delivery. After the spell has been performed you must keep this knot wrapped up in a baby blanket and keep it in a safe place. When the time comes for your _bébé_ to be born you must untie said knot. Do not forget,” he added pointedly with a slight smile to the corner of his mouth before leading her out to the front counter.

Generous as ever, Master Raymond only let her pay for the stones claiming that the rest were a gift for her and Jamie's unborn child.

“Thank you,” she said even though the words didn't really seem to be enough.

Once home, she made sure she was alone on the top floor before gathering some items from around the main room and then locking herself in the bedroom. In what seemed like no time at all she was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a ring of candles and a feeling she couldn't quite describe thrumming through her veins.

Studying everything in front of her she had the feeling that something was missing. She double checked the list Master Raymond had provided along with all the items from the store. Red raspberry leaves, vitex agnus-castus berry powder and false unicorn root now combined in a small metal pan. Five stones of assorted shapes and colours surrounding the pan and, of course, the length of green rope. It was all there plus the embroidered baby blanket that she herself had added to the collection when she had returned home. Despite reassuring herself she had everything she needed, the feeling that something was missing remained.

“The most powerful ingredient is love,” she murmured to herself. 

Claire stood and walked over to the dresser where the box of silver apostle spoons resided on top of it. She lifted the lid gently and considered its contents. Twelve individual spoons… supposedly for the twelve children they were sure to have - or so Jamie had told her the night he had given her the gift. She smiled at the memory and picked up the silver spoon that sported Saint Andrew on the handle. The Patron Saint of Scotland. She closed the box and returned to her spot on the floor, the apostle spoon still in hand. She placed it down on top of the baby blanket and picked up the already lit candle. In a clockwise motion she turned, using it to light each of the candles that surrounded her. 

With her first task now complete she replaced the lit candle at the top of the circle. She picked up the green rope and tied it tightly around the handle of the spoon before reading the incantation out loud.

_ “Sécurisé dans mon ventre, une graine d'amour. Là pour grandir et s'épanouir jusqu'à sa libération par la nature dans quatre mois. Entouré de sécurité, de santé et de complétude vous resterez jusqu'à ce que ce nœud soit défait.”  _

Claire glanced down at the spoon still resting on the baby blanket. Nothing was different, nothing had changed. This time she picked up the spoon and cradled it close to her chest with both hands. She closed her eyes and repeated the incantation louder, all the while focusing on the unborn baby inside of her.

_ “Sécurisé dans mon ventre, une graine d'amour. Là pour grandir et s'épanouir jusqu'à sa libération par la nature dans quatre mois. Entouré de sécurité, de santé et de complétude vous resterez jusqu'à ce que ce nœud soit défait.”  _

Her hands tingled and she peeked down at them with slight trepidation. Much to her delight a soft blue was glowing in the palm of her hands. It was reflecting off the metal of the spoon and the green rope tied around it was now tinged a shade of teal. She smiled and closed her eyes before repeating the incantation once more.

_ “Sécurisé dans mon ventre, une graine d'amour. Là pour grandir et s'épanouir jusqu'à sa libération par la nature dans quatre mois. Entouré de sécurité, de santé et de complétude vous resterez jusqu'à ce que ce nœud soit défait.”  _

Now content, Claire placed the spoon back down and picked up the piece of parchment. She held it against the flame of the one of the candles long enough for it to catch alight and then dropped it into the metal pan. Smoke curled up as the botanical ingredients burned along with the words and she found herself unable to look away from the glow until it had fully dissipated.

Without waiting for the smoke to clear, Claire wrapped the spoon up tightly in the blanket and then used her thumb and forefinger of her right hand to extinguish all of the candles one by one. Holding the bundle carefully, she stood and walked over to the small cupboard by the bed. She crouched down as best she could and tucked it away in the back corner, confident that no one would find it there not even by mistake.

****

\-----

****

Claire's back ached and no matter which way she turned she couldn't get comfortable.  ****  
** **

She was eight months pregnant and she was grateful for every single day their baby remained safe inside her, she was. She knew it was best for not only her but also Jamie and their unborn baby to stay in bed for a few more weeks but she felt like she was going to lose her mind. ****  
** **

The stress of Jamie being arrested for duelling Black Jack Randall had caused her to lose so much blood that she had been confined to  _ L'Hôpital  _ for a number of days. Knowledge of her situation had evidently spread as Master Raymond, himself, had visited her during her stay _.  _ Initially he had been pleased, assuring her that the spell was holding strong and she needn't worry about the baby, but then had moved on to assess the rest of her and adamantly insisted that she take better care of herself. 

She adjusted her pillow and turned on to her other side. She let out a frustrated sigh when she found that to be even worse than her previous position. ****  
** **

Ever since being ordered by Mother Hildegarde almost three months ago to convalesce at home until the time came for her to give birth, she found it hard to sleep at night. More often than not she would lay awake thinking about Jamie locked up in the  _ Bastille Saint-Antoine _ and in the early hours of the morning when she finally fell asleep she would dream of his death, herself forced to watch with her hands bound in black rope. While Jamie would suffer a different form of capital punishment each time she was always guaranteed to wake up sweaty and with her heart racing. ****  
** **

To make matters worse, she often felt like she was dreaming during daylight hours.  ****  
** **

Despite Mother Hildegarde's warning that the King would expect some sort of payment in exchange for Jamie’s freedom she hadn’t hesitated. She knew that pregnant women were protected by the crown, even to the point of pardoning any woman previously sentenced to death who proved she was with child while on death row, and had prayed to whatever God that might be listening that the King himself would not expect a heavily pregnant woman to service him. What she hadn't expected was to find herself judging the fate of not only Master Raymond but the Comte St Germain, too. ****  
** **

Since then, memories from that day would play through her mind on random occasions, often prompted by the smell of incense or the sound bells tolling in the street. She couldn't help but wonder what had become of Master Raymond and she prayed for forgiveness for what she had inadvertently done to the Comte. ****  
** **

Still, it meant Jamie being released and she would do it all again if it meant they could be together. All three of them. ****  
** **

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door followed by a muffled “Madame?” ****  
** **

Intrigued by the excited tone of the voice she recognised as Suzette’s, Claire climbed out of bed and pulled on her robe as she walked to open the door. ****  
** **

“Yes?” ****  
** **

“You must come, Madame.” ****  
** **

“Wait, Suzette. Come? Where?” ****  
** **

“Downstairs,” Suzette grabbed her hand and held it in both of her own. “Everyone is so pleased.” ****  
** **

Still perplexed by what was happening, she tiredly followed Suzette all the while holding in the yawn that threatened to escape. She held on tightly to the railing as they made their way down. It was dark with only candles lit here in there to guide them but she could see and somehow feel the glow coming from below. As they reached the landing Suzette bobbed to curtsey someone in front of her and promptly walked away. ****  
** **

Claire stopped and so too did her heart. There waiting for her was Jamie, looking up at her with shadowed eyes somewhat hidden by the long curls falling around his face. His clothes were the same as he had worn the last time she had seen him except now they were torn and faded in places. All of this accompanied by the long beard that had grown during his time at the  _ Bastille _ he looked like a completely different person. And somehow exactly the same. ****  
** **

“Claire.”  ****  
** **

His voice was raspy, as though he had been ill or perhaps even crying recently but it was the best sound she had ever heard. She pulled up the skirt of her robe and rushed forward only to be reminded of her large stomach as she flung her arms around him and pulled him into a crushing embrace. ****  
** **

“Claire,” he said again and this time she was certain he was crying. He raised his arms and embraced her back far more gently than she had him. After a time he released his grip and she pulled back to watch him bend down to place his hands on her stomach. “The bairn?” ****  
** **

“Safe,” she replied. With anyone else her answer might have seemed rather out of place, most likely expected her to use a word like ‘healthy’ or perhaps even ‘growing’ but she knew that Jamie would understand her meaning. “My nose, however… is not. You stink to high heavens and are in desperate need of a bath.” ****  
** **

Jamie laughed and wiped his eyes. “Aye, Sassenach. That I am.”  ****  
** **

Suzette was correct that everyone in the house was pleased by Jamie’s return. They set about preparing a warm tub and fresh clothes for him in the bedroom while Jamie tried to insist that she return to bed while he bathed but soon realised that it was going to be a battle he was never going to win. She suspected he might not have wanted to, either - he didn’t even hesitate to lean forward when she moved to scrub his back gently with a cloth. She bent down and followed the cloth with soft kisses to the back of his neck. Goosebumps rose and she smiled to herself. ****  
** **

“I can hear ye smiling from here, Sassenach.” ****  
** **

“I was wondering if you could still do that.” ****  
** **

“Do what?” Jamie turned his head to look back at her and she pulled back slightly so that he wouldn’t have to crane his neck so much.  ****  
** **

“Know everything about me, without sight nor sound.” This time she kissed him on the lips long and slow, as if attempting to make up for all the time they’d spent apart. Eventually she pulled back and ran the palm of her hand down the side of his still furry jaw line. “Let’s get rid of this shall we? I want to be able to kiss you and not be prickled all over.” ****  
** **

“All over?” Jamie smirked at her. Both his words and his expression were half-hearted but she couldn’t have cared less, simply happy that his natural forever-youthful state was starting to reappear. She slapped him on the shoulder playfully with the cloth before dropping it into his lap.  ****  
** **

“Only if you’re lucky,” she teased and went to over to gather the razor and soap.  ****  
** **

She could remember shaving Frank’s face for him, once upon a time in her previous life. She had always felt it was an intimate act, trusting someone else to do it and she had been so proud of the fact that he would ask such a thing of her. But shaving away the remnants of Jamie’s beard, of his time in confinement, she found it to be even more intimate than any other. Jamie’s physical body not only relaxed and surrendered itself to her hands but his soul was hers to hold as well.  ****  
** **

It was late by the time they climbed into bed and they laid in silence for a time simply enjoying each others presence.  ****  
** **

“How long?” She finally asked.  ****  
** **

“Two weeks.” ****  
** **

Claire nodded and pulled his arm tighter around her middle. She had know all along that his return was only temporary. The King would never allow for a convicted Scottish criminal to not only be pardoned but remain living on crown land. She also knew that Jamie would have a plan. “What are we going to do? I don’t think I can go anywhere right now.” ****  
** **

“Nay,” Jamie confirmed. “Fergus and I will set sail for Scotland at the end of the week. We will make our way to Lallybroch and send word when we have arrived and preparations have been made for you and the bairn.” ****  
** **

“I’ve only just gotten you back,” she pouted and Jamie kissed her lips with a chuckle.  ****  
** **

“I dinna wish to part from ye either, Sassenach, but ken that I also willna leave ye alone. Murtagh has agreed to remain here with ye and then escort ye home to Lallybroch once you and the bairn are well enough to make the journey. But dinna fash,” Jamie slid his hand down over her hip and grabbed a hold of her buttock, “for I’m here now.” ****  
** **

“Yes, you are,” she agreed and leaned up to kiss him properly. ****  
** **

As tired as both of them were, their affections remained chaste and before long the two of them had fallen asleep in each other’s arms with their unborn baby nestled between them.  

****

\-----

****

Every day for the past week she had considered untying the knot around the apostle spoon and each time she walked past the cupboard in which it resided the idea had only become more tempting.  ****  
** **

That morning when she couldn’t even keep her breakfast down she had finally given in and untied the rope.  ****  
** **

She was well aware that still being pregnant was a miracle, one that may never have come to fruition had she not performed the spell.  But now she was nine months pregnant and increasingly desperate to not only give birth but also be reunited with Jamie. She couldn’t deny she was being selfish but her back hurt, her abdomen felt stretched to the limit, contractions seemed to be increasing at a horrendously low rate and all she wanted was to receive some affection. Preferably from her husband - the man very much responsible for her current predicament - but at this point she thought she might accept it from anyone. Or perhaps no one. ****  
** **

For hours she had been walking around the house in an attempt to not only encourage active labour but also keep her somewhat distracted, hoping to prevent her from dwelling on what was to come. A sudden pain had her bending over and gasping for air. ****  
** **

“Milady?”  ****  
** **

Claire reached out and gripped onto Magnus, suddenly thankful that the house was always teeming with people. She looked down and saw drops of red blood on the floor boards. She pulled up her skirt and found more soaked into the leg of her stocking. ****  
** **

“Milady? Should I call  _ la sage-femme _ \- the midwife?”  ****  
** **

" _ L'Hôpital _ , Mother Hildegarde," she gasped out and fell to the floor relying on Magnus to help her.

****

\-----

****

Claire started to wake. Her hands moved down to cradle her belly but instead of taught rounded skin she only found a soft, flabby surface. Her heart started racing as flashes of the past few days came to mind. Arriving at  _ L'Hôpital des Anges _ . Laying on the table and staring at the ceiling while people bustled around her. Someone - a man - barking orders. Fever. Dreams. A blue herring. She pushed away the sheet that covered her and moved to sit up.  ****  
** **

“Where's my baby?” Claire turned to find Mother Hildegarde standing over her with a hand on her arm. “Where is my baby?”  ****  
** **

“Madame, do not trouble yourself. You must save your strength,” Mother Hildegarde replied and offered her some water. She barely resisted knocking it away.  ****  
** **

“I don't want any water. I want my baby. Bring me my baby. I want my baby!” ****  
** **

“Shh. Madame, Claire. It's all right. Here she is.” ****  
** **

Panting, Claire followed Mother Hildegarde’s gaze to find one of the nuns walking towards them with a wrapped up cotton blanket. ****  
** **

“Oh!” The bundle was placed in arms and she relaxed, quite simply stunned by what she saw. She was holding a little girl with a head full of beautiful copper hair and, while her eyes were closed, she could tell they were slanted a bit like Jamie’s. She pulled back the blanket to count all ten fingers and ten toes, just to double check. The fresh air caused the baby to fuss and so she replaced the blanket and bounced her arms gently in an attempt to calm her. “Shh…” ****  
** **

“I baptised her. And gave her a name. Faith. You must understand, I worried that you... “ Mother Hildegarde started to explain and Claire nodded. She was far more taken by the infant in her arms than worrying about names. “ _ Ta petite fille est parfaite, Claire _ . She’s perfect.” ****  
** **

Claire couldn’t take her eyes off of her, not even to thank the Mother or even as tears began to blur her sight. She ran the back of her finger down Faith’s warm cheek and smiled. ****  
** **

“You are so beautiful, Faith” she whispered, her daughter’s name rolling off her tongue as if she had been saying it all of her life.  ****  
** **

“Aye,” Murtagh said gruffly as he came to join them. “And yer father canna wait to meet ye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Secured in my womb, a seed of love. There to grow and blossom until released by nature [number of months] hence. Surrounded by safety, health, and wholeness you shall remain until this knot is undone” (incantation courtesy of google - original source unknown).


End file.
